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CHAPTER16
The Viscount Tunsdale’s house was filled with people. Owen knew about half of the gentlemen present, thanks to his and Bran’s treks around the city. He nodded to those he knew and waited to be introduced to those he did not. From what Owen had gathered since his time in London, he had not regularly attended these types of functions but had preferred the raucous delights of the gaming hells and brothels.
The dinner itself would take hours. There would be at least eight courses, if not more. Selena had told him that the viscount had one of the best tables in London, so at least the food would be good. The butler summoned the couples to their seats. Owen escorted Selena in. Her seat was on the opposite side of the table, as far away from him as possible. Lady Tunsdale had broken up most pairs, probably to mix up the company.
Owen sat with an older matron to his left and a younger gentleman on his right. For the next three hours, trays laden with tureens of soups, plates of fish, venison and duck with cream sauces and wine sauces, and vegetables of every array were paraded to their seats. Owen made polite conversation. The old matron, Lady Sutton, was amusing and astute.
“I have noticed your lordship glancing down the table, not for the first time, this evening. Has some pretty little thing caught your eye?” She raised a brow as she sipped her wine.
Owen bent close to her ear, like two conspirators, their heads almost touched. “I fear it is so, ma’am, but you must not tell anyone.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it would be most unbecoming if they discovered that I actually like—my wife.”
He grinned, and Lady Sutton let out a loud laugh that caught the attention of those around them.
“Oh, Lord Fernsby, you are incorrigible. You would get along well with my nephew, Matthew. He is such a cheerful fellow, like yourself, always joking about. Is that not right, Mr. Grant?” She directed the question to the gentleman across the table.
“Quite right, Lady Sutton. Longfellow is an amusing chap.”
Longfellow.
The name rang in Owen’s ears. That was the name on the piece of paper he had found. It had to be a coincidence. There were lots of men with the last name Longfellow. Nevertheless, he would be remiss not to ask some questions.
“Your nephew,” Owen looked at Lady Sutton, “where does he work? If he is as jovial as you say, perhaps I should make his acquaintance.”
“He works for the Office of Foreign Affairs. The poor man is run ragged right now, what with the war in New Zealand and the war in the Americas.”
He had to meet this Longfellow. It sounded too perfect to be true. First thing in the morning, he would go to the Office of Foreign Affairs and pay a visit to Matthew Longfellow.
On the way home, Owen told Selena about his conversation with Lady Sutton, along with his chance meeting with Gregory Fines earlier that day.
“Maybe now I can finally get some answers.” He laid his head back on the carriage seat, suddenly feeling exhausted. The blasted headache which had been bothering him all day had not subsided.
“It would be nice to find out why it was so important to contact this Longfellow person,” Selena agreed.
The couple went immediately upstairs when they arrived at home. A sharp pain sliced through his brain. Owen cried out, holding onto the wall, the jab taking him by surprise.
“Owen, what’s the matter?”
“It’s just this damned headache. It has not let up all day.”
“I will have Katie bring you a cup of tea with some herbs to ease the pain.”
“Thank you, dearest.” He cupped her face. “You are more than I deserve.” Owen brushed his lips lightly over hers. “I will see you in the morning. As much as it pains me, I know I need to rest, and if I ask you to stay with me, rest will be the last thing on my mind.”
Was that a blush on her cheeks? It was. Good. He would give her something to think about until tomorrow.
“I may not see you in the morning. I’ll be off to the foreign affairs offices as soon as I can.”
“Then meet me for lunch at one o’clock at The Burlington on Regent Street,” Selena said as she slipped away for the night.
“I’ll be there.”
Tom was waiting for Owen when he entered his rooms. As Owen was slipping into bed, someone tapped on his door. It was Katie with the cup of herbal tea Selena had promised. The liquid was soothing at it slid down his throat. He couldn’t place the herbs, but hopefully it would do the trick with his headache.
The following morning, Owen practically jumped out of bed. A cold sweat drenched his body. The headache had subsided, but in its place was something far worse—memories. And not pleasant ones. There were flashes of him fighting in brawls, fists flying as he relished overpowering his opponents. Next, he was in the Army, using his rank to take advantage of others. The worse were the memories of him arguing with Selena. He was yelling at her, berating her for being so quiet and plain. I should have married someone else. Anyone would have been better than you.
